All Through Jack Pine

A mysterious robotic take on the classic poem that may or may not reveal W.I.L.L.O.W.I.S.P. company secrets...

transcript

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through Jack Pine,
Not an agent was stirring, except Gary, row nine;
Decorations were hung round headquarters, with flair,
By Junior Sprout Interns who no longer were there.

The operatives? Most had gone off on on vacation.
While missions, by eager workaholics, were taken.
Elites on their planes and Base Ops at their desks,
But those not on night shift were home, getting rest…

But on nights just like this, there arises a clatter.
When no one is here to see what is the matter,
A legion of robots dead set on their tasks,
Without much obstruction to try and work past.

A curious sight on floors high and floors low.
Automatons of all kinds just wandering so.
And then, to security cameras appear,
Technological Advanced Beings gathering near.

No apparent controller, remote, or joystick.
Some fast and some slow and some terribly quick.
Mechanical noises sing out in refrain.
If studied in TABs, one might know each by name.

Some Androids! Some crawlers! Some rovers and probes!
Some Animals! Some humanoids! Some objects and drones!
To the top of the stairs, to the ceilings and walls,
Roam away, roam away, roam away all!

As the beasts of the earth who can crawl, swim, and fly.
Some robots can travel through land, sea, or sky.
So all through headquarters, these deft machines sweep,
Conducting their business while most humans sleep.

They search every office and lab for their proof,
They search through the basement and up on the roof.
They draw their heads in and turn all around.
They move about steadily in leaps and bounds.

Some rolling on wheels, some walking on foot,
Some hovering on propellers, or some staying put.
A few were familiarwho just had come back,
While others were new to joining the pack.

What is this assembly set out to do?
If one were to say, you may not think it true.
Regardless of rhyme and regardless of reason.
Few know that the robots appear in this season/

But those few who do refuse to disclose,
The escapades happening under their nose.
The curious sight, a delight to be seen;
A wondrous parade of technological beings.

They carry on tirelessly all through the towers,
Using their skills and exhausting their powers.
From outside the building, not one soul can guess,
There is something amiss with this workplace at rest.

And then, with a beep and a whir and a clank,
Each TAB is dismissed, electronically thanked.
As soon as they’d come and without a trace,
They settle all back to their right proper place.

The floors are back quiet and all falls back dark,
Without so much left as a nick or a spark.
And now that each one of us is out of sight,
Merry Christmas to all. And to all, a good night.